


Masterpiece

by Halcyon99



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Emotions, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, I'm not good at titles, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Original Character(s), Rough Sex, Shizaya-freeform, Slow Build, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, art hoe shizuo, mind the pretentious title
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-08
Updated: 2016-09-24
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:09:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7419196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halcyon99/pseuds/Halcyon99
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heiwajima Shizuo is a simple man that desires peace whether it be peace of mind or a peaceful environment, as such he took the initiative of taking out some provoking occurrences in his lifestyle; no TV and limiting how long he goes on the internet. To stave off the proposition of boredom, his way of countering this. Is art with the likes of art galleries and muses...</p><p>Following this, an unsought challenge from Orihara Izaya presents itself which is to create something human. Nevertheless, Shizuo takes up the challenge. But through the fickle strings of fate, they are entwined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1; Smoke gray

Smoke drifted through the plain, small but oddly enough spacious apartment. A heavy sigh bounced off the chipped, blank walls as the owner of the cigarette tipped some of the ash into the burnt tray. Heiwajima Shizuo took another inhale of his cheap, off brand cigarette while running his hand through his bleached hair. After 10 minutes he gave into the resolution that he was bored, the silence was slowly grating on him as so he drummed is fingers against his gray jogger bottoms, few seconds later this increased in speed until you could audibly hear it…Then it stopped. Just like before the white wall clocked ticked on, it was nearing 2345 and Shizuo couldn’t get to sleep nor could he concentrate.

Normally this would happen once a week? Twice a month? Although with this occurrence he had no idea why; isn’t like he wanted it to happen or knew the reason. It was inconsistent…unpredictable, a small grimace found his way onto his weary face that suddenly changed to one of anger. Despite his looks, he always knew or though he knew what people thought about him in this strange level of self-awareness, at a young age he acknowledged his rather “surprising” nature, the peak being when he was close to murdering his brother over something as ridiculous as bargain pudding. More of a bitter memory than a sweet. Kasuka once came to him in earlyish? Middle school asking for help with homework, he needed Shizuo to explain what similes and metaphors were after a rough explanation. Kasuka presented him one about himself “Nii-san is calm like water and raging like a tidal wave.” He doubts Kasuka remember it like he does, probably over how truthful it is to him.

Out of his reflection, he leans back into his old leather sofa and ponders on what to do next to alleviate his boredom. He briefly considers alcohol, that large bottle of sake from Russian sushi sits lonely on his kitchen counter but quickly dismisses it. A horrible scenario appears in his mind of him getting a hangover, a splitting headache while on the job, having to use necessary violence and to top it all off that bastard Flea materialising like no ones business using that high falsetto “~SSHIZU-CHANNNNN! Want to come out and playyyyy?” He dreads it just for thinking that ~~horrible~~ toxic thought.

A feral growl escapes his throat for thinking about that good for nothing insect. Deep breaths are the rooms momentary ambient, he doesn’t want to go in another blind rage and destroy, what he perceives as a shambles of an apartment (not that long ago he got a “fair” warning about how it’s not appropriate to slam doors until they break, another warning and he’s out). He needed to vent, his hazel eyes drew themselves to the sketchpad and pencil on the table. Perfect, eyes gleaming with inspiration, furiously he drew that imagined scene of-of…Something vaguely human holding a bouquet of weeds.  

At 2412 he came to the realisation that he was too fucking tired to do this, rubbing his eyes slowly he went to bed. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first fanfic if I'm being honest, I based this off of a prompt of mine http://kingfisher99.tumblr.com/post/145675565480/another-weird-headcanonauprompt, I'll certainly expand this prompt into something else since it wouldn't be drrr without chaos~ reviews and critiques always appreciated. Updates should be once or twice a week


	2. Chapter 2; Inky black

Sharp electronic beeping woke the slumbering man beneath the black covers. Reluctantly Orihara Izaya stretched his wiry arms, rubbing the golden sleep from his russet eyes. Pulling back the monochrome blinds, the early morning glow sets through the studio apartment.

Sleepy eyes longingly gazed at the dishevelled bed, for a few seconds he wondered if he should make up the bed or leave it for Namie. Inwardly smirking to himself he decided to leave it, he was paying her anyway to do jobs. This wouldn’t be too much trouble for the likes of her. He headed off to the shower, the last thing he would want is Namie walking in on him like one of those anime clichés…That would be the last thing he wanted, adding to that he’ll bet that she sells the story or the pictures on through Ikebukuro. A potential laughing stock in the making, especially with his ruthless and infamous reputation. Simply not fit for a god among his beloved humans. 

0730 he towelled off his lithe body in the full body bathroom mirror, contrary to the belief Izaya didn’t consider himself a narcissist. He would begrudgingly admit that he could come off rather vain. It wasn’t his fault that he liked to keep up appearances so to speak, humans were just jealous creatures. Highschool girls praying on each other under the pretense of “friendship” with candy-coated compliments. 

“Himeko! I love what you did with your hair!”

“Umi-chan that blonde hair really suits you~”

Then as soon as they turn their back, the false compliments are knives that tear into their prey like vultures digging to a delicious meal. But that spectrum of emotions, shrouded untrustfulness in some, blind naivety is what makes humans so intriguing to him. 

Shrugging on a cotton V-neck and black jeans, he set himself at his desk to await the arrival of Namie. Spinning on his chair, he overviewed Shinjuku, traffic was already forming, salary men and women were strolling through the gray streets. It wasn’t that Izaya disliked Shinjuku compared to Ikebukuro, it was more of a case of how interesting Ikebukuro was. The black rider was there, gangs and that atrocious monster was there so exciting. In Shinjuku, he supposes he could mess with business people but it wouldn’t be as much fun~

“I just got in and you haven’t even switched on your computer.”

A gleeful persona, came forth. 

“Oh Namie-san, I didn’t hear you come in. Did you do something with your hair? It looks more luscious than usual.”

Shutting the door and setting down her handbag on her desk, Izaya could almost hear her frustratingly mutter, bastard repeatedly under hear breath. If she’s going into a stroppy mood, he might as well entertain her. Making a plan of action, he switched on his computer and retrieving his notepad off side of the desk. 

“Namie? Namieeeeee.”

A sharp sigh caught through the air, ha exactly what he wanted. A couple a seconds few by, the air grew more tense. 

“What!”

“Can you be a good employee and give your lovely boss breakfast, I want miso, steamed rice and ginger also as usual green tea.”

“It’ll take a while to-“

The sound of a chair scrapping against the wooden flooring brought Namie out of her agreement. 

“Would you look at that, I have a meeting with a client, sayonara.”

“Wait-Bastard.”

When Izaya shut the door, after that lively conversation he couldn't help but chuckle. She was just so easy to annoy and she couldn't do anything about it.   
Getting his phone it was 0900, he would met his client at 1140 in Ikebukuro in the around about sunshine 60, the client said more details specially where about later. The information he was supposed to give wasn't that incriminating, just investigate his client's wife and how many partners she had/has been with.

Izaya wasn't suspicious of that it was more of what this could tell for him, as a few days prior he was shifting through his emails like usual, offers, virus filled junk, spam and death threats. Something drew his attention, a message from an unknown sender whom he couldn't effectively track. The email just had one message.

"The rat will be killed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So its slowly simmering, poor Izaya now being called a rat. I used it since most people see him as untrustworthy, and well he sells info on others. Someone once called me the such but another story for another time, I hope the characters aren't too ooc since I'm basing them off more off the light novels and my own interpretation, reviews and critiques are always appreciated~


	3. Chapter 3; Turtle dove

The creep slammed into the semi-desolate alleyway, he flinched when a monstrous nicotine scented breath inhaled deeply before raising a fist in a fit, at the side of his temple veins were bulging out. Hazel eyes were filled with pure scorn.

“Shizuo, that’s enough, we still need him to pay his debt.”

The only response that Shizuo gave was a grunt and started rifling in his pocket for his cigerettes. Shizuo actually hated cigerettes, he disliked how addicted he was to these expensive life shortening hellish sticks of well, cancer. He hated the fact that he was addicted to them because of that shit headed Flea. If Shizuo believed in a God, would’ve became a saint to get rid of him. 

“Shizuo, are you okay?”

“Shizuo-senpai, you seem to be in a state of discontent, is everything satisfactory?”

Tom and Vorona’s voices brought Shizuo out of his stupor, out of everyone he was sincerely glad it was them. 

“Sorry, Tom-senpai and Vorona. I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

“Shizuo, again? Maybe you should get it checked out.”

“Is this a common occurrence for Shizuo-senpai, sleep deprivation as found in studies in 2007 and 1990s-incite that-.”

“S’okay, it’s just tiredness I guess?”

He had a strong familial love for them both. Well it wasn’t like he hasn’t thought of it, haven’t thought of having a relationship with either of them. It didn’t feel right to him like, he felt they both can do better than him.  
Shizuo had no idea what his sexuality was, he didn’t particularly like labels since for most of his life was made up of them. “Punk” “Delinquent” “Loser” “Idiot”…”Inhuman” and “Monster”

Tom brought Shizuo out of his short reverie, by the sound of him rifling through his rather smart blazer for his business book. He keening flashed the pages, his glasses glinting off the summer sun. 

“Ah, I have good news. That was our last client for today, most of them were taken care of yesterday. Thank you Shizuo and Vorona so it looks like we are off early today.”

After saying that Tom smiled at them like a father to his children, suggesting the two to visit that new dessert café not too far from their current location. Looking at Vorona to gauge her reaction, she first had one of subtle conflict then shyness. Honestly it was quite cute. 

“Shizuo-sempai, would you wish to partake to this trip to the café with me?”

Normally, he would never turn down an offer like that especially from her but he was really tired, with tiredness he gets irritated easier than usual and if something were to happen in that place. He didn’t want to think of the consequences.

“Um, Vorona I’m sorry but I think that should spend my time getting some sleep maybe next time.”

He tried adding a smile to that wishing it didn’t come off as terrifying awkward. She looked dishearted for a while that shine was missed from her lilac eyes but redeemed a second later, saying that she looks forward to next time.  
He admired Vorona for her determination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Shizuo, Vorona and Tom so much. Hmmm who knows maybe I could do a set of drabbles on them one day. This chapter, yeah kinda slow but all will be seen soon...ha Shizuo was a nightmare to characterise like what does a manchild say?? Complaints aside, things should be happening in the next. Reviews and critiques always appreciated~


	4. Chapter 4; Cardinal

Elsewhere in Ikebukuro, Izaya was so strolling down the city just out of the subway station yet waiting on details on his supposed client. A few seconds later a vibration in his pocket brought his attention, it was the client. Flicking on his phone it was 1000 there was an hour being, the dealing which was to be held in the west exit district within there a bar. The “Four horsemen” …In daylight?

Humans were strange.

The summer breeze was picking up to a cold harsh wind, rustled his fur lined jacket. He resisted the urge to shiver. Retracting his thin hands into his velveted pocket for warmth. The realised his personal notebook was there; it wasn’t that big, around about A6 just with a few of his thoughts on “things” philosophy, humanity, extra details on information (he had a job to do so it was practical) shopping lists (sometimes he’s forgetful, lost in thoughts) and his sketches of his humans. 

To an artist’s eye they were appealing albeit a little rushed and careless but somehow detailed, drawn almost lovingly. Each eye crease drawn, a birth mark, beauty mark, that teenager’s pimple and that midwife’s curvy body. All was there, on the mix of pristine white pages as well as partially coffee stained pages. 

Izaya was a natural observer it was his nature, whether he’s in the background urging the strings or planting a fire for his puppets to ignite. It was only time until he picked up a pen to visualise those ideas.

He decided to try to find a sheltered post, to draw his muse…Humanity.

A few minutes later his vantage point was behind a billboard, overlooking a street. Eyes focused on the crowd, drawing and analysing features, seeing how his humans interact with urban environment. High schoolers wandering through the bustling city looking to skive school, a mother scolding her children over the talk of the city, business men and women rushing to working like their lives depended on it, along with the symphony of traffic lights, cars. The city was brimming with life. 

An hour passed, he managed to fill two more pages with studies and details regrettably it was time for the meeting with the client.   
A tall, broad shouldered man of average built checked his sliver watch for the fifth time whilst scanning the crowd for the fur trimmed informant.

Nishimura Ryuga was a serious man. He worked as an accountant for a firm for a considerable length of time at his workplace he was known as the man that could never take a joke.Against all of this he still managed to find a wife Nishimura Hinoka. They met after a getting introduced to by a mutual friend, even lived happily for a while even having two children; daughters but that’s when the problems started. 

5 minutes later, the infamous informant finally chose to turn up. There was a noticeable twitch in anger from Nishimura as he was a punctual man, how dare this so called serious man waste his time that he took out of his day. He swallowed his rudeness to take on a business-like manner. 

“Orihara-san, what a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for helping me.”

Izaya could already deduct all this man’s problems with one sharp minded look, Nishimura was in his late 30s with strands of greying hair curling by his ear; due to stress, he had a façade of calm but in his murky eyes laden with anxiousness and doubt. ~Wow, I wonder why just working with me~ Izaya added sardonically to his mental notes, over the past few days he was feeling quite bitter, he knew why but wouldn’t dare to say it. Loneliness. 

Gathering his thoughts, he and Nishimura retreated into the bar, it was a place with few people, a nervous young man and his presumed lady on a date; the lady looked that she wanted to be anywhere but there, at the counter there was a middle aged man desperately demanding another drink to the stern bartender. 

The duo sat in a spare guestroom, the bar provided about to start the deal. Viridian blackout blinds blocked out intrusion to the conversation, the only light source came from small candles dotted around the room in some old-fashioned design, flashing a quiet but strong flame. A varnished long table sat in the center of the room with two cheap, mignonette upholstered seats which sat across from each other. Nishimura signalled for his business partner to sit, across from him 

“Nishimura-san, I have your information as planned now onto the details of funds.”

Just as predicted that gave him a reaction he wanted; Disdain.

He wanted to intimidate this man as much as possible for three reasons. Firstly, it was so much fun, secondly he needed to show that he was clearly better than his guy and lastly his person could be potentially the man to kill him, why not scare him a little. 

Izaya challengingly slipped out an A4 brown envelop, tucked in a secret coat pocket and placing it on the varnished table. 

Nishimura eyes flicked back at the spritely young man sat in front of him, the man in front of him was a nuisance but was an end to the means. The twitch came back at his audacity of his behaviour- calming himself his hand found his way to his blazer pocket. 

Izaya’s job was to find out, what whom in Nishimura’s current (secret business) money laundering who was stealing the profits.   
As soon as the envelop was placed on that table, Nishimura made a move for it, only to be stopped by a swift hand swiping it back. 

“My, Nishimura-san didn’t anyone tell its rude to take something that’s not yours. Wow manners.”

Making a point by saying it as sickingly saccharine as possible, he smirked when the other man scowled. 

“If you desire the information, be patient~ It isn’t that hard.”

Izaya couldn’t help but smirk at that.

It happened so fast, a gunshot was heard, Nishimura’s head lurched forward…dead. Scarlet blood started to freeflow, onto the vanished table and the shooter wasn’t to be seen.   
Panic set through Izaya, blind confusion.

“What just happened?”

That was the last thing said before forced darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted this to be out earlier if I was being honest, but I had difficulty writing this chapter I wanted to have many different ideas only to write myself into a corner, the only way getting out is boring exposition. I got help for this chapter from friends and the izaya drawing humans is my own headcanon, also this skank called Kanra also does it so she inspired me so props you hoe.  
> Hopefully this matches up with my standards and anyone that is reading. Reviews and critiques are always welcome~


	5. Chapter 5; Slate

The nicotine fixation was pulling at Shizuo, a longing for a cigarette even though he just had one 10 minutes ago. His addiction was getting worse; he knew that this addiction is slowly killing him much like a certain insect. Right then he could have chuckled at the strange parallel of his obsessions.

Speaking of which, it has been a week since he last seen the flea which he is not complaining about although he sensed something stirring. It was something of a forewarning to all the unexplainable bullshit that he became accustomed to. Fists clenched like a reflex. He needed to let go of that thought before the hypothetical shit would hit the fan of his emotions.

Restlessness. Flicking his violet gaze to his silver watch it was only around 1100. And he had nothing to do. It was a Friday meaning that the Tokyo metropolitan museum of art will still be open or open long enough to peak his interest for a while. No one thought Shizuo was a lover of art, they would always stereotype him as some reckless brute that cannot use general etiquette like manners, a “person” not able to comprehend art and culture. He hated it, he hated the perceived notion of people that judge before something or someone just “because”.

Art always amazed Shizuo, he liked how these artists could use their emotion to create beauty, having that control of expression to create unlike himself all he could do is destroy. Pencil, after pencil broken after he didn’t like how that line turned out. Chiselling too deep into a delicate carving so it’s beyond salvageable. When he was a kid, his art teachers always told him that patience is the key to art yet that lack of self-discipline results in a table being broken, a traumatized teacher, lastly the ever rising feeling of shame. 

Amongst his reflections he wandered into the west exit. A certain scent, brought him out of his stupor. A flare of familiar anger rose up. The population of Ikebukuro quickly scattered from his vicinity in fear of going into comatose via vending machine to head or potential death. A sadistic grin forced itself on his face, a deft made to the nearest stop sign and a deep inhale to bellow the famous phrase.

"IIIIIZZZZZZZAYYA!!"

The insect wasn’t there…WAS THIS ANOTHER TRICK TO MAKE ME LOOK LIKE AN IDIOT! 

“Piece of shit!” 

His fingers ticked for a cigarette after that energy rush, succumbing to the addiction. Storming off to chase that prick. This made no sense, his gross scent is unbelievably strong here? It’s definitely in the area…Fuck it, he’ll try and find him.

He, needed peace not searching for some asshole just for expression of his wrath and vengeance. 

5 minutes flew by but nothing…

A suave black car, drove by.

The scent of dried paint, tea leaves and blood perminated the stale city air, THE FLEA.  
WHERE WAS HE GOING?! A somewhat calculated air tried to assess, the situation at hand, the conclusion drawn form that one second was that he couldn't run up to the car to proceed to beat up Flea. As such actions are more broader than words, a vending machine aimed just far enough ahead of the now speeding car answered that. Shizuo grimaced at the very realistic thought of the car crashing into his recklessness then death but it would probably be Flea's death, on the other hand someone else would probably die.

A screeching halt, brought the man out of his semi murderous reverie. 

"WHAT! What, wait is that Heiwajima!"

Typical. At the sight of him the frantic driver froze, went into a panic, hurrying to scramble off.

Clouded bemusement flooded Shizuo's mind at the lack of annoying taunting and flying knives; Is that little shit dead? Curiosity got the better of him, he ventured into the abandoned vehicle. Sure enough the Flea was in the backseat. Shizuo needed to scrunch up his nose over the potent scent of him. “Gently” he made a move to turn Izaya over to his back to get a better view of his near visually dead body. Hovering over, Izaya chest was slightly breathing, shit still living.

“Great, I guess.” 

Shizuo murmured sarcastically, slowly bringing his hand to brush Izaya’s silky, messed hair out of the way of his face. This felt wrong to Shizuo with the distinct level of intimacy especially with an unconscious person. A large welt was formed at side of his head. Knocked out, good if he was lightly sleeping…no.

Shizuo understood the need of a dead Izaya but why is he just knocked out, not dead? Hesitation masked his face, he wanted the other man dead however killing a man that can’t fight back would go against all his morals. It’s not right, never. A bit of bile rose in Shizuo’s throat at carrying Izaya all the way back to Shinra for further treatment, hopefully Celty might turn up for "delivery".

"You failed to get the rat!"

A man shrouded in shadows, huffed on an office phone at the disobedience of that hired kidnapper. The utter gall of that "trained" kidnapper nonetheless a move on the chessboard would be made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NOW THE SHIPPING CAN FINALLY START HAHAHAHAHAH...Yeah I made up weird heacanons about Izaya's scent idk um anyway I'm hoping to have another chapter out soon after this since the end of month. I'm leaving to go on hoilday and well my laptop wouldn't do good in a hot, humid country and well when I come back, my next term of high school would start, not to worry too much... Critiques and reviews are always welcome~


	6. Chapter 6; Ashes

Whiteness surrounded Izaya in a cocoon of anaesthetic purity. Was he in a hospital? Did Shizu-chan finally kill him? If he had the strength a disparaging smile would be placed on his seemingly fragile skin. 

A presumed minute passed, more of the room came into view; an open window far left of the bed with the comforting hum of the city below, again almost white walls apart from very noticeable cracks running up like veins and furtherer indentation… Laminate mahogany flooring glistening from recent polish, in fact all the room was immaculate. 

“Ah, Orihara-kun”

That annoyingly cheery voice, rung through the wall of Izaya’s rampant thoughts. Which now that he thought about it Shinra’s voice was exceedingly comparable to a bell having the characteristics of such: Musical as much as he hated to admit it, Shinra had a rather charming tone to his voice or at least when he wasn’t constantly talking about Celty but that would never change…Even so back to his previous analogy of the bell, faint memories of Raijin reverberated back. Shinra’s voice reaching a near level of panicked shrillness, a crescendo when his fights with the monster got too close to comfort or Celty in every instance. 

“Orihara-kun?”

“Shinra? Are you just going to stand there and not tell your dear patient, why I’m here?”

Hesitation was in the air, Shinra’s eyes glinted in uncertainty. 

“Orihara-kun, someone tried to kidnap you and nearly succeeded.”

Bitterness was the only emotion he was currently feeling; out of all the past attempted kidnappings, torture threats and beatings this was the only time someone actually took him for medical help…Furrowed brows almost twitched in sharp annoyance, aided by slow melancholy of human decency. 

A tincture of emotions. 

Shinra felt his stormy emotions rolling off. From Izaya's observation however it seemed Shinra gained confidence or an idea was rapidly unravelling in this mind. His long fingers shifted in his usual lab coat pockets.

“Shizuo, scared off your supposed kidnapper which is the reason that you are here.”

To any other person at that moment of time, you could hear a pin drop. Soft creak of the door shutting, again returned Izaya to this reality. 

As much as Shinra had a sort of kinship with Izaya, he didn’t want to create anymore tension with his casual apathy towards his friend’s complex relationship. 

Manic barrage of questions filled his banaged head, the most comprehensive was why?

Why? Why? Why would a brain dead primal monster ever help him? You would think that he would be the reason for his current predicament or one more serious…Cracked ribs? Shattered skull? Paralysis by force…Or death. Yet He was intact apart from concussion. 

Clean nails bit into his skin enough to make marks on a scarred hands. 

“Fuck!”

Hatred swept through the man, bloodied nails stained the pristine bed sheets in a frenzy, searching for a certain switchblade. How dare that monster think he can gain moral superiority over him.

Messy hands stroked through his feathery bedhead, in a frantic dance. 

A ghost of a laugh bounced off the walls, a shelved thought at the back of his mind now an actuality; strings that never should be pulled were beginning to get knotted, the game has been shifted. Now all Izaya felt like he could do was watch and predict his future moves. 

Irony crashed into him, that he nearly hunched over. The one made it absolute for his death, saved him if that monster wouldn’t kill him, the blunt force of this brutal trauma would. Worst will come as the resident protozoan will expect an obligatory “Thank you”. 

He needed to sleep this off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the verrrrrry late update that was meant to be due since forever, school called and I needed to find my will again. Hopefully this would be enough to sate you, I feel like everyone is ooc as for 3 tequila's, I may update it next in a pseudo schedule anyways reviews and criticism is always welcome~


End file.
